


Encounters in the Dark

by Kenz



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - 1985 New York, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Angst, HIV/AIDS, Historical Inaccuracy, Homophobic Language, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Drug Use, Public Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Siren, Slow Burn, Slurs, Suicide Attempt, canon compliant death, rickren--not primary pairing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3600078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenz/pseuds/Kenz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieren is a newly turned 18 year old queer kid, in search of a casual affair after Rick left the city to join up. He pops down to 42nd street where he knows all the hustlers and sex theaters are and buys a ticket to the Adonis, a pornographic theater. After wandering the inside, a little unsure of how to proceed, he happens to sit next to a certain charismatic Irishman.</p><p>The one where PDS is HIV/AIDS and Simon is an ACT UP activist. Mirrors canon in some places.</p><p>Note: this hasn't been updated in a long time, not because I've abandoned it, but because I'm going through some really terrible depression and am in the middle of an exhausting school semester. I thank you all for reading; I haven't given up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Punk, Porn, and the Strangest of Circumstance

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I haven't watched ITF in forever, so if it's all out of character, just let me know and I'll retract in shame. Will continue if people enjoy.  
> Unbeta'd, so please let me know of any mistakes I missed.

Kieren stepped into the darkness of the theater and waited for his eyes to adjust, leaning against a darkly colored wall. The larger than life figures on the screen were in the middle of their act—something Kieren wasn't too sure had a name, and glanced around at those sitting in the audience.

He had a hell of a time convincing the guy at the door he was eighteen. "I see ya there with yer ripped up jeans and yer heavy boots, tryin'ta be all tough." He had grinned at Kieren and choked back a laugh. "What are ya kids callin' it? Punk. Yer all punks these days." He chortled, obviously not taking Kieren's presentation seriously.

"Look, I don't care what the fuck you think of me. Could you jus' let me in?" He even started taking out his ID to try and prove his age. The guy waved dismissively.

"Naw, go on in. Yuh paid after all." He shrugged. "Don't come crying to me when yuh don't get what's goin' on." He ripped Kieren's ticket in half and let him inside the porn theater. 

Times Square in 1985 was a hodgepodge, specifically 42nd street. Kieren's particular intent was the Adonis, a sex theater—he had heard that this was somewhere one might go if they were looking for something physical, but casual. After Rick leaving, that was all he wanted. Groups had been clamoring to shut down the sex businesses for years, and with the "gay cancer" making its appearance, suddenly these groups were gaining some traction.

Kieren didn't necessarily take all the stuff about AIDS as seriously as he should—even if everyone used to call it Gay-Related Immunodeficiency Syndrome. It's why he hadn't told his mom yet, about him liking boys, but he thought she knew anyway. When Kieren told her he was popping over to Philip's, she just said "please be safe," like she knew. It was enough to make him wonder what he was doing in this darkened theater, looking around.

His eyes adjusted to see someone fellating a man in the third row. Casual, indeed. 

Kieren didn't want to admit that he was a bit scared and more than a little concerned at his own behavior. Is this what you really want Kier? He asked himself questions as he walked around the theater. He counted fourteen men masturbating and a surprising eighteen couples doing...several different things, on his walk around the theater, before climbing up to the balcony seating. There were several more men towards the front, sucking each other off, lazily stroking with their hands, enough to cause Kieren to sit towards the back, if only because he was confused about the protocol here. He was however, half hard just from all the sexuality around him. He had never seen this much sex in one space.

He sat against the back wall, staring at the movie, the male actor licking the bare vulva of the actress, with little actual interest, hoping to observe what people generally did in these situations. Suddenly he heard the curious chuckle of a man to his left, about four seats down.

Kieren slid his eyes to glance, but the corner was too dark. He simply heard the lilt of an Irish accent, "Didn't come here for the high quality movie, now did you?"

Kieren carefully schooled his features and stared ahead, ignoring the man, until he heard the squeak of a chair and then suddenly he was sitting right next to him.

Kieren couldn't make out much of the man's face, still covered partially in shadow, but what he could make out was quite beautiful. He was clean-shaven, with dark or black hair (Kieren couldn't tell), and a knowing smirk (though Kieren was not sure what it knew). Interestingly enough, though his face was clear, the rest of him was hidden in an oversized sweater, which of course made sense with the weather, but also seemed to swallow him up.

Oversized Sweater began, "Now look, doe eyes..." Kieren's brow furled at the insinuation. "...I can only assume you're here to—" he gestured around to the other couples. Then he turned and looked Kieren in the eye, and Kieren was suddenly exposed to all of the man's face. He really was quite beautiful. Though his brow showed sign of wrinkles, he still appeared fairly young.

"You can't just sit there in the back and expect someone to come to you. You have to be doing something, at least have your prick out or something." Oversized Sweater whispered with his oddly knowing smirk. What did he know? Kieren wasn't sure if this man was actually right but he did seem like he knew what he was talking about, and he was staring Kieren in the eye, which should make me so fucking uncomfortable, but it didn't.

"My name's Kieren," he blurted into the darkness between them, unsure what he should do next. It would hardly do, to just unzip his pants while making continuous eye contact with a complete stranger.

The stranger chuckled once more. "Simon." He held out his hand. 

Kieren took it gingerly, still unsure of the protocol surrounding conversations in a sex theater. After shaking Simon's hand, Kieren turned back toward the film, if just to break contact with the man, the heat of a blush starting to creep up his neck. "So what brings you here?" He asked, regretting the words as they flowed from his mouth. Why else would anyone come here?

He grinned, staring forward. "Sex, mostly" he whispered, nonchalantly as if the question had other legitimate answers. He leaned in so Kieren could hear him better. "I rather enjoy cocks," he whispered as if it were a careful secret, told only to Kieren, even though they were in a venue that catered to that exact desire. 

Kieren felt himself start to relax at the ease of conversation, actually starting to feel comfortable in the bizarrely and publicly sexual place. He heard moans coming from a man a few rows down, and the sounds went straight to his own cock, an inevitable byproduct of his own relaxation. He shifted carefully in his seat.

"Why did you come?" Simon asked, astutely aware of Kieren's shifting. 

"Obviously for the high quality of the film." He smirked and glanced at Simon, who was hiding his own smile behind a large sweater sleeve.

"Is that so?" he cocked an eyebrow, yet staring straight ahead.

"Oh yeah, the art in this. Just beautiful, can't you tell." He tuned to Simon who was staring straight at him.

"Yeah. Yeah I can." He said, most of their joking conversation gone. Kieren was taken aback by the sudden seriousness of the moment. "Do you want someone to take care of that for you?" Simon asked, dipping his eyes to Kieren's lap to indicate what he was talking about.

"Um...yeah." Kieren said softly, and shifted so that Simon could reach for his jeans.

Simon quickly unbuttoned and unzipped Kieren's jeans, sliding them down far enough to free Kieren's erection, which now hung heavy between them. Simon spat in his hand and started working his hand over Kieren. He leaned in. "Is kissing alright?" he asked Kieren.

Kieren's eyes were closed tightly but he nodded and felt cool lips pressed against his own. Simons slid his tongue along Kieren's bottom lip, and they parted, letting Simon's tongue taste the inside of Kieren's mouth. Simon tasted like black coffee, bitter but Kieren couldn't be bothered because a man was kissing him, and touching him, in a totally public place. It was exhilarating.

Simon's mouth dropped to his neck, allowing Kieren to breathe, but as Simon approached the sensitive part of his neck, right below his ear, he gasped slightly. "Okay?" Simon murmured into his ear. Kieren nodded. Simon swiped his thumb over the head of Kieren's cock as he nipped at his earlobe. "You sure?" He whispered.

"Uh-huh." Kieren said, partially moaning at the contact. Suddenly the lips were gone from his neck, and without opening his eyes, he heard the creak of the seat next to him as Simon sunk to his knees in front of him. 

"I uh...I'm not going to" he was cut off as Simon took Kieren's cock into his mouth. Kieren brought his knuckle to his lips and bit down to prevent himself from moaning aloud. "Simon..." he whispered. 

Simon stopped sucking him for a moment, simply licking the underside of his cock. "Yes?" He whispered in response. 

"I...uh...don't do this very much," Kieren opened his eyes to look down at Simon, trying to imply meaning. Simon lifted an eyebrow for clarification, his thumbs massaging circles into Kieren's thighs.

"I don't know how long I'll..." he sighed and fell back against his chair.

"Ah." Simon mumbled against Kieren's cock as he kissed the tip. "Don't worry. I won't judge." He chuckled and pulled Kieren into his mouth once more. Kieren let out a quiet groan of pleasure. Kieren's hand screwed into Simon's hair, clenching with every swirl of his tongue. He pushed Simon's head to take him deeper, and Simon obliged, taking in all of Kieren's cock and pulling off. "Oh fuck..." Kieren whispered towards the ceiling of the Adonis, the orgasm building in his belly.

Simon swirled the head and then plunged back down, fully taking in all of Kieren once more, this time Kieren's legs tensing, biting the knuckle of one hand and fixing his other to Simon's hair. He leaned forward and his breath quickened, and with Simon's mouth tight around his cock he came. 

Simon gripped his thighs through the orgasm, sucking him through the course of it, the several spurts of Kieren's cock, until he fell back against the seat, spent. "Shit..." Kieren mumbled, pushing his hair back from his head and breathing more heavily than normal. Simon took this opportunity to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and sit back next to Kieren. 

Kieren glances at Simon from his lounged position. "Sorry I uh...came so quick." He said with a slight frown.

Simon grinned. "Nothing to apologize for. Honestly it was my pleasure." He said.

Kieren glanced at Simon's own lap. "Do I need to...?"

Simon shrugged. "I'll wait for our second date." He said, jokingly, and grabbed a backpack from the chair towards the end. Simon stood and looked down at a now disheveled 18-year-old punk who looked thoroughly scandalized. "See you around, Kieren." He winked and stepped from the aisle, disappearing into the darkness, and assumingly to the outside world. 

What the fuck just happened?  



	2. Friends on Forty-second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so as a preface: I'm using identity language of the time. The "queens" I refer to, if they existed in today's world, would probably consider themselves transwomen--however this term wasn't circulated as widely in the time I'm writing about. They are not "drag queens" but rather "street queens" those who "pretended" to be women all the time. If any of this uncertainty about language makes you not want to read, feel free to skip over this fic. 
> 
> Again, unbeta'd so let me know if you see anything glaring that you want changed!

Three months had passed since Kieren had seen Simon. 

He visited the Adonis again, tried the Variety, and even Cirra (which was a much scarier place), yet he returned to the Adonis at least once a week around the same time to try and find Simon. He was unsure why he was so interested in talking to him again. Of course he was the first person Kieren had public sex with, but in all honesty he'd had much better sex in the three months since seeing Simon. It was the nature of getting used to the situation and becoming more comfortable. 

Today, he decided to break his weekly Adonis pattern and head toward the Cedar, a theater he had been visiting recently. As he walked down 42nd street, he fingered a safety pin on his jean jacket and thought about his family. 

They had to be getting suspicious of his behavior. Of course it was all under the guise of art school this and Phillip that, but he had simply stopped telling them he was going out, just that he would be home. Jem had even wandered into his room and asked him where he had been going when he was lacing up his boots earlier that evening. 

"Just out, Jem..." He said, shrugging. He didn't want to lie to her but he couldn't very well tell her strangers were blowing him in the backs of theaters. 

He hugged her and smiled, reaching behind her to grab a tape off the shelf. "Look, when I get back tonight, we'll do something okay?" He broke away and handed her the tape as a consolation for the omission about his activities. "Alright, mom tried to strangle me when she saw the last one, you can borrow my walkman to listen." 

When Jem saw the tape she squeezed Kieren again. "Since you're the best brother in the universe, you're off the hook for now." She whispered conspiratorially, grabbing his walkman from the bedside table and running to her room. He heard the door shut with gleeful force. 

Now as he was walking down the street, a little smile appeared on his lips. For the longest time, all they had were each other. 

He bought a sandwich and a pack of mint gum from a little store, the bells tinkling as he walked in. He walked to the counter, to Guiermo, the stocky Italian man, who was gesturing wildly at a soccer game on the television he had rolled to where he was from behind the counter. The cords snaked into the back room. The tile and walls were yellow with age, but Kieren didn't mind--his sandwiches were delicious. 

Ham, cheddar, mayo, and lettuce. 

"Heya kid!" Guiermo called when he was walking out the door.

"Yeah?" Kieren asked. 

"Grazie mile" he nodded sternly in appreciation. Kieren nodded in return, turned, and shrugged, a giggle bubbling up. Guiermo was...a character. One didn't know if he was going to give a shout of gratitude or an irate rant. 

After walking down the street a bit more, he stopped outside a shop to greet a hustler named Rob. He had met Rob at the Eros a month prior. He was a strong, muscular Dominican man that sat down to Kieren and offered to help him out. Afterward, Rob leaned back in his chair and said "Look man, would you mind giving me a couple bucks. I'm starving and I need to get back here to sleep for a couple hours." Kieren hadn't had anyone ask him for money for sex before. It was a little disconcerting. He told him he didn't have anymore, just enough to get into the movies. 

"Ah that's alright!" Rob had answered cheerfully. "It's not like we agreed on it ahead of time or somethin'. I just thought your big eyes were cute." He leaned in close and whispered lowly, "wanted to see 'em squeeze shut real tight." Kieren felt his smile as he leaned in and kissed Kieren's hair.

Over subsequent meetings in the darkness of the theaters, he learned a few things about the man. He had been homeless since a queen he was staying with lost her job and was just trying to make enough to eat and get by. "I don't mind working, you know. Lots of men fuck me and give me money and a life lesson about how I should get a "real" job and whatever but hey--they keep coming back, and I like sucking cocks!" Rob was always grinning, usually cheekily. 

Kieren realized these people were relatively invisible. 

Now, as he saw the man he waved. "Hey Rob, how's your afternoon?" 

"Oh you know Kieren, just working away!" He said distractedly, eyeing a man who appeared to be looking for Rob's kind of service. 

"Well take a break." Kieren grinned, handing him the sandwich. "I got your favorite!" 

Rob peeked in the wrapping and smacked Kieren's bicep with his palm. "You're the best, Kieren! Gotta eat this quick. I think that john is jonesing for me."

Kieren pulled a piece of gum out of the pack. "Looking out for you." He handed Rob the piece. 

Rob winked, already with a mouthful of sandwich and waved goodbye as Kieren turned on the heel of his combat boot. 

He continued walking toward the Cedar, which he had been frequenting every day as of late. After paying for his ticket and being admitted inside, he did his normal walk around. 

Right as he entered there were a group of queens sitting towards the door, simply chatting about the things going on in the world. As he was about to walk by, one of them, Marlene, called out to him. 

"Kiki! Will you come here, peach?" Kieren had somehow picked up the shortened version of his name from a couple of the queens he had struck up conversations with. Marlene was especially persistent, being from Tennessee, with her doting on him. 

"Hey sugar plum, I've been tellin' Paula here, that Tom Cruise boy is just delightful in Risky Business. I think he's gonna be a real star. Of course she don' think so, what do you think, Kiki?" Marlene drawled. 

Kieren laughed between her and Paula, "um, I'd have to say I'm not familiar." His fingers touched the chain hanging down from his belt, sliding the cool metal between his fingers.

"Not familia'? Oh honey! You'll have to wait fo' it to come on the television or somethin' my dear...he's quite a little treat!" She raised her expertly drawn eyebrow. 

Kieren nodded respectfully. "I will be on the look out. Good afternoon ladies." He looked around, eyeing the dark space where someone had unscrewed a light bulb. However from what he could see over there he saw a...skirt? It was a long, poofy skirt like girls used to wear in the fifties. He didn't know queens to dress like that, and he wondered over.

He heard a great sigh when he sat in the chair next to her. "No I don't want you to what is it? "Eat me out?" Not today, guy." She seemed exhausted, and like she had given that response today. 

"Um well...that's not why I walked over here, but thanks for the warning. I will just be g-" Kieren made to stand up. 

"Oh wait." She said, putting a hand on his arm. It was then he noticed there was a cat pattern sewn into the skirt. How...queer. 

He glanced back up at her face, turned towards him. With his eyes adjusting, he could see the outline of a flower in her hair. "I was just curious why you were here. Doesn't seem like a hang out for many girls by themselves." 

"Well, yeah, you're right. Except that's why I gotta be here. Girls like sex too!" She gripped his arm in emphasis. "All you boys down here getting your jollies and us girls got to sit at home and what? Iron?" She asked. "We need adventure!" She finished, whispering quickly. 

"I need adventure..." She said more softly, chewing her lip. 

"Alright then. Well mind if I sit?" Kieren asked. "Stay? I mean. I'm Kieren, by the way."

She nodded and sat back, "Amy."

"So what exactly was your plan in coming?" He asked carefully. She had let go of his arm, but he just wanted to be safe. 

"Well, I was hoping just to sit in. I didn't realize so many people were in here...fucking around." She took a quick glance around the room. 

"Well it doesn't help that the lightbulb up here is unscrewed. That usually means you're inviting people over." He gestured at the bulb. 

"I thought will all this sex out in the open, they would just ignore me."

"Oh no, many of these men are into women. Never touch a cock in their lives, but it's a lot easier to get your dick touched here by some man than it is to just start soliciting women. And it's usually free." He added. 

"What an interesting place. If I wasn't so tired I would probably enjoy it more. Maybe be less irritable at the interesting people who apparently want to tongue my vagina" She mused aloud. 

Indeed, he chuckled. "Long day?"

Amy nodded, explaining "I've been up for two days." She dug into her bag. "I brought apples. Do you want one?" 

"You bet." He said, accepting the generous offer as an unusually loud moan rushed forward from the blackened back if the theater before a quieter "sorry," that sounded like it came from a busy mouth. 

Amy quirked an eyebrow and Kieren shrugged before settling in. He bit into the apple, juice dripping down his chin slightly. He watched the figures on the screen, but was acutely aware of Amy leaning back in the chair and closing her eyes, seemingly not of her own will. Before long she had drifted to sleep. Why she had bothered to pay to come in here and sleep, he had no idea. 

He supposed, just like Rob, some people just need a break from the world and this place was easier. He pulled off his denim jacket revealing a black shirt with the sleeves cut off. Another chain hung around his neck. 

He laid the jacket across a sleeping Amy and turned his attentions to the film. 

He thought he would be getting laid today, but ultimately, this helping someone find a quiet moment to doze off was just as rewarding. 

He glanced at Amy, his lips tugging at the corners. What an enigma she was. 

He decided to get to know her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to write this fic for camp nano! Yay! So you'll hopefully get updates pretty quickly this April. 
> 
> Subscribe if you want to keep up, if you're curious about what comes next. If you're not its totally cool. Thanks for reading anyway!
> 
> I'm kenzlock on tumblr, btw.


	3. Gay Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An exploration of the beginnings of Amy and Kieren's friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again: please let me know if there are any problems I need to fix. Unbeta'd as always.

Kieren looked at Amy and then to the screen. He had been keeping an eye on her, but one could only watch bad heterosexual porn for so long before one gets bored. He meandered around the room and engaged in conversation with a man named Alex for a good while before he left and he found a man to pull him off. It was quick, easy, without names, but afterward they talked about an art exhibit going on across town. 

After a few hours of her laying there in the darkness, Kieren woke Amy. He needed to head home lest Jem start to rant across all of New York City looking for him. He owed it to her to get home with some semblance of daylight left. 

Amy stirred and looked down at the jacket that Kieren had thrown over her. A sad smile pulled at the left side of her mouth. "Thanks for your kindness...Kieren—that's your name right?" 

He nodded and accepted his jacket back as she handed it off to him. "So why did you really duck in here? To sleep?" He asked, carefully intonating his words so that she wouldn't think he was trying to be aggressive or demanding.

"Kinda yeah. Look, no one pays attention to a girl like me when she asks for a place to sleep." She sighed deeply and started pulling up her sleeves.

"Why do you say th-" he was cut off short by the track marks he saw in her arms.

"You were the insistent one, being my knight in shining armor. I'm off the stuff, still no one lets me sleep." She smiled at Kieren. "Hey, you and me—I'll walk you home." She moved to gather her backpack which had been hidden behind her skirt.

"You don't have t-" he began.

"Nonsense, dummy! I'm in need of some adventure!" She punched his arm lightly and marched toward the exit. He followed her, shaking his head, but smiling slightly. He was always surprised when someone pulled him into their life. 

Marlene waved to him as he and Amy left. 

After exiting the building Amy began talking again. "Been clean for almost three months but the shelters check for that stuff you know? I've got a bit of a job waitressing but it's not enough to pay rent anywhere right now. People in there don't really care. They ask to pull your skirt up, but other than that they leave you alone. So I sleep there, save up, and put it in my pack 'til I can get a proper bank account. I was living with my Nan, she was even helping me pay for rehab and all that...but she passed recently and well..." she dropped off and started staring at her feet while they walked. 

Kieren just walked along, absorbing Amy's story, unsure of what else he was supposed to do. It wasn't the first time someone completely random had unloaded on him—he believed his youngish looks to be responsible for this—but usually it wasn't this heavy. He imagined Amy hadn't had anyone ask about it before. When she stopped talking, he paused in his step and checked his ratty, but still working, watch. It was only 4:10 in the afternoon: he had time. 

"Do you want to grab a cup of coffee or something?" he asked her. Three months ago he probably would have wished her a good life, hoping the copious chains, black, and leather would scare her off, and been on his way, but talking to so many people with so many stories had made him more sympathetic to the plight of, well, everyone. 

She looked back and up at him. "Uh, yeah. I wouldn't mind." She shrugged and joined Kieren as they stepped into a coffee shop a block down. It was a hole in the wall, white and black checkered tile all turning gray. The main window was grimy, but Kieren smiled in encouragement, having stepped in here during a rain and finding the coffee to be surprisingly delicious.

Amy sat at a rickety table by the grimy window, fading paint reading "Mo's Cup of Joe" in a color that she assumed used to be robin's egg blue. 

Kieren walked up to the counter and threw a couple bucks down. The man who was either standing in for Mo, or was actually Mo, nodded curtly and poured strong black coffee from a carafe into two cups. "Couple shits made off with my mugs last week, ya understand, kid?"

Kieren nodded. "Sorry to hear that. This is fine." He picked up the cups and raised them in thanks to the man behind the counter.

"Go ahead and bring 'em back for a free refill if ya want, kid," the Man smiled with one side of his face, picking up a rag and wiping the counter.

Kieren set the coffee down on the table with Amy, careful of the missing leg that caused the table to rock. "So I know it's not glamorous, but it's good." 

She sipped the coffee and looked pleased.

He set his cup down and folded his hands in front of him. "Alright, so I'm assuming your Nan had a place to live. Why are you not sleeping there?"

Amy took a deep breath. "Well, seein' as I was...trying to be rid of this nasty habit of mine, the man in charge of making sure her will was taken care of doesn't trust me not to turn it into some drug sex den I guess. He assumes I'm staying with friends I guess, until he figures out what to do with Nan's house. He has to give it to me, I'm pretty sure." She took another sip from her coffee. 

"So you've just been sleeping in the theaters?" He asked.

"Yep." She nodded and popped her lips. "I hung around down here back when I was high all the time. It's basically amazing nothing happened to me. Now that I'm clean, it still feels like home more than anyone else, I guess." She shrugged, holding her cardigan-clad arms tight around her waist. "So what's your story, combat boots?" she asked.

"I want to go to the New York Academy of Arts—but I imagine that's not going to happen seeing as I have like no money." He smiled and shrugged.

"More than most around here, I'd reckon." She returned his hapless grin and raised her coffee in toast to their shared money problems. "Well yer not just an art student. What else is there to know about Mr. Kieren...?"

"Walker. Kieren Walker. I listen to The Clash, make mixtapes for my little sister that piss my mom off, and I'm a pretty big fan of blokes." He finished, as if those were the ingredients one could throw together to make him. 

"Are you gay then?" She asked.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Most assume that, I guess. I suppose I don't know." He looked down at the table.

Amy chuckled a bit to herself. "What do you mean you don't know! You like sucking cock—what's to know?"

He glanced over to "Mo" who appeared not to have heard. "It's not as easy as that you know? Just cos I like blokes doesn't mean I don't like girls. It's just easier to have sex with blokes, if I'm being honest." He shrugged. 

It was Amy's turn to raise her eyebrows. "Well, that's the first time I've ever heard something like that."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think maybe people think boxes are easier."

"Boxes?"

"Yeah, boxes. Like putting yourself in a box—sometimes it's just easier to explain." She pressed her lips together and thought about her words for a moment. "Like—you may not be gay, but you're not straight either right?"

He nodded.

"But because you like to fuck around with guys, you're closer to gay than you are to straight, right?" She emphasized the word "closer" by creating a range between her hands, and then moving one hand closer to the apparent "gay" side.

"I guess."

"Then I think others in your position probably just say they're gay, because at least what they're saying is they're not straight." 

"Yeah that makes sense." He nodded thoughtfully.

"So do what you want! More importantly, fuck who you want." She laughed heartily and finished her coffee. Kieren nodded towards the cup to ask if she wanted more. She bent her arm at the elbow and swung it forward, her thumb up. A wink accompanied the motion, over-the-top, successfully planting a grin on her new friend's face.

The rubber of his combat boot squeaked against the grayish white tile as he swiveled around in his seat to stand. Now that she was watching him walk away, Amy noticed the studs in the back of the jacket. While most studded jackets she had seen were just covered in them or haphazardly put on, Kieren had build his into a pattern. When he sat back down she asked about the design. 

"Well, I put in the spikes on the shoulders first, just to experiment, but eventually it turned into this whole thing. I just used three different sizes to try to make something cool—do you like it?" He asked.

"I do. Why the safety pins on the front though?"

"So I can pin shit to it I guess." He motioned to the peace sign patch that was pinned to it. "And when I found this jacket it had been trashed. The pins hold it together in some places where its ripped in the front." She nodded to his answer, seemingly out of questions about the jacket. "Why do you wear clothes that look like your Nan's?"

Amy laughed. "My Nan wore stretchy pants and comfy blouses mostly. I don't know. Easy to find in thrift shops, cheap." She shrugged. "I like the style, more flow, my skirt spins." She quickly stood up and began to twirl, inviting her skirt to flow outward, her life turned into a dance. She fell into the chair, giggling.

Kieren couldn't help but laugh along with her. She was infectious.

Not long after, she walked him to the metro, and he gave her his address. "Look, Amy, if you're in trouble, you come to my house. I'll make up some excuse and you can stay there or whatever."

She nodded, secreting the paper away into a pocket of her pack. "You know where to find me?" She gestured back towards the Cedar. 

He nodded his head and moved in to hug her. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

Amy squeezed him tightly. "Sure, sure." 

He let go of her and turned, climbing down the stairs into the subway entrance. He looked back, but she was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we'll get back to the sex soon, I promise.
> 
> If you're interested in beta-ing, shoot me a message at kenzlock.tumblr.com


	4. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick's back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so here's two chapters in a day! This story was largely unplanned, and an idea, but as it takes hold, it is becoming something I hadn't expected. Get ready for feels and probably a lot of angst.
> 
> I've used some of the lines from the actual script because I like the canon, and this is fanfic right?
> 
> Unbeta'd

Six months later.

Sustaining a friendship with Amy the Transient Enigma should have been much more difficult than it was. She and Kieren met up at Mo's at least weekly to discuss their lives, and she often called his house from random pay phones. They were never strained, despite their common separation. Besides the random contact Kieren experienced week to week through public sex in restrooms, theaters, and parks, Amy was his only connection to other people. Eventually Kieren even found out her last name was Dyer.

Until the letter. 

He woke one morning in December 1985 to Jem sitting by his bed. She looked like she hadn't been sitting there for very long, but she was slouching and holding something in her hand. 

"Fuck it." She whispered and handed it to him.

\--

The night before Amy had knocked on the door of the Walker home for the first time since he had suggested it to her. They had been in the middle of dinner, Steve and Sue having made awkward conversation with Kieren up until that point. Kieren noticed Jem rolling her eyes several times. He was just about to ask when there was a knock on the door. Sue went to answer it. 

She walked back in moments later saying, "Kieren. It’s, uh, it’s for you." She seemed surprised and a little disturbed. 

He walked to the door, opening it carefully to reveal Amy looking like she was in dire straits and hadn't slept in five days. "Jesus Christ Amy." 

She smiled, exhausted. "Found your place." 

"I can see that." He wrapped an arm around her and got her inside out of the snow. "What the hell happened?"

"Oh that's a long story, Kieren. Was that your ma who just opened the door?" She asked once he had shut the door. 

"Yes." He said, peeking into the dining room, where everyone was looking towards him expectantly.

"She looks adorable. Are the folks in?" She asked, meandering towards the central living space.

"Yes, but-" he started, but she had already started walking into the dining room, even though she looked like she needed to lie down.

"Hi fam! I'm Amy!" she exclaimed, sitting down in the chair next to Kieren's. Never confronted with a homeless person in their living room before, the Walkers were all awkwardly silent as she beamed at them. Kieren pushed his plate or food towards her, which she graciously accepted. 

In between bites of chicken parmesan, she looked at Jem and the red locks that flowed from her head, "I love your hair!" 

Jem looked away, unsure of how to react "Thanks."

"Is it naturally that color?" Amy asked, cheerfully.

Jem looked at Kieren, eyebrows raised. "...Yeah."

"I tried dying my hair like that once. It came out green!" She exclaimed, and then took a drink of water from the glass Kieren had pushed in front of her. "I kept it and the next day at school Mr. Percy told me I couldn’t walk around with green hair, so at lunch time I shaved it all off." She laughed, remembering the grand joke of it all.

Kieren hid a nervous smile, mumbling to the table, "Why didn't you just dye it back?"

She lightly pushed him, "That would have been giving in, Mr. Spikes and Leather."

Sue and Steve exchanged a glance, and seemed about to speak. Kieren cut them off.

"Shall we, uh, let's, I’ll show you my room!" He exclaimed, almost dragging her out of the chair.

"Oh yes, ‘where the magic happens!’" She took Kieren's outstretched hand as he took her through the apartment to his room. After the door shut, he sat down on the bed, head in his hands.

"Look, Amy, I'm not sure you can just talk to them like that, or just—" he couldn't think of how to finish.

"Why?" She didn't seem hurt, just genuinely curious.

"They don't know I hang out where I do. That I'm friends with hustlers and" he gestured at her "homeless people. They don't even know about" he lowered his voice "my...preferences." 

"Shouldn't they know, so they can get used to it." She paused. "Shouldn't you get used to it? You're not just like that when you're on 42nd street you know. Maspeth-Kieren is just the same."

Kieren looked at her. "You know that's not true. You know I can't be me everywhere."

She sighed. "Can we not fight? This is supposed to be the honeymoon period."

"Christ Amy, we’re not married." He replied, but a smile was already trying to break free of his frustrated mask.

She plopped down next to him and laid a head on his shoulder.

"Do you want to tell me why after six months you've finally decided to play me a visit?" He asked.

"Not really."

"Amy."

"Fine...my...my old dealer found me. I'm so close to getting Nan's bungalow—I just couldn't have him hanging around trying to get me on that again..." She closed her eyes. "I wasn't sure where else to go really."

"Well you're fine here. I'll explain to my parents. Go ahead and take a shower if you want. Laundry's in the garage if you want to make use of that." 

She raised her head and smiled at him. "I can't wait until you propose to me Kieren Walker." 

He had explained to his parents that Amy was a friend down on her luck, and even though they were suspicious of the stranger, their care won out, and they left Kieren to tend to her.

\--

Now, as Jem handed him this letter, he sat up and took it. He glanced over at Amy who was sleeping on the bed next to him, to make sure she was okay. She was stirring. 

"What's this, Jem?" he asked, rubbing the sleep in his eye.

"Mom didn't want you to see it, but I thought it was stupid. It's from Rick—he's back in town, Kier." She explained, wringing her hands.

"What?" His eyebrows furrowed and he reopened the envelope that had already been unsealed and presumably read. Before reading, he turned to Amy and shook her lightly. "Amy, we need to go soon."

He returned his attention to the letter.

_Ren,_

_I haven't heard from you...I don't know how you are, or what's happened, but I want to see you before it's too late._

_Rick_

He jumped up and shoved his legs into a pair of ripped jeans that were closest to the bed. By this time, Amy had sat up. "What's happening?" she asked, the blanket falling from her body revealing she was already fully clothed.

"Please get your shoes, Amy. We have to go." He rushed anxiously. _Before it's too late? What does that mean?_

He glanced to where Jem had been sitting; she had apparently bolted in the thirty seconds. Amy got up and quickly pulled on her shoes, grabbing her backpack.

"Where are we going?" She prompted once more.

"Remember when I was talking about Rick?" He asked, grabbing a studded belt from his drawer.

Amy stook in the doorway, waiting for Kieren. "Yeah. Best friends growing up, he rushed of to be a soldier man leaving you heartbroken. Haven't heard from him since." She quickly recalled and synthesized what she had learned.

"Well apparently he's back—no one told me." _Why did no one tell me?_

He stormed down the stairs past his parents who were sitting down to breakfast.

"Kier—" Sue began, a slamming door interrupting her.

Sue and Steve ran out the door onto the sidewalk. Sue yelled out "Kieren! Kieren!"

Steve tried to hush her and ran after Kieren. "Son? What's wr—"

Kieren turned so fast, all Steve saw was a blur of black and his son marching back to him. "Rick's back. How could you not fucking tell me he's back?" He exclaimed. 

Steve stuttered. "I...I..." 

"Un-fucking-believable. My own goddamn parents!" He balled his hands into fists and marched off toward Rick's house half a mile away. Amy followed.

"Get back here Kieren! Please!" Sue yelled.

Kieren ignored her pleas.


	5. 1986

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the sad Rick chapter--you all know what's coming. suicide tw, homophobic language tw. This chapter roughly takes place over the course of a year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm doing this to you.

In the beginning, Bill Macy had screamed at Rick—homophobic slurs polluting the air of the Macy household. He claimed Rick was no son of his, spent most of his days at work, and most of his nights drunk. Whiskey nights were the worst—Bill was especially violent those nights. In the beginning, Rick could just leave, or fight back. He'd walk to Kieren's place, crash for the night. 

That first day was the hardest for Kieren and Rick. Amy had walked with him, told him that if Rick was so important to him, Kieren _should_ march right in there and see what Rick had to say for himself. His hair was all a mess from sleeping, his jeans were ripped—he looked terrible, but Amy knocked on the door, shoved him toward it and started marching toward the subway stop. 

"I'll catch you later, handsome." She waggled her fingers and turned before Kieren could think of anything to say.

Janet answered, shocked to see him standing there. "I don't think now's a good time Kieren..." she began. Kieren heard shouting from the back of the house. 

As Kieren tried to peer around her, all of a sudden, Bill stormed through to the front of the house, and grabbed his coat. Janet jumped out of the way as he blundered through the front door, stopping when he saw Kieren. "This is your damn fault. You goddamn motherfucking faggot," he raged.

Kieren started to ask what he meant, but Bill wrenched his arm back and punched Kieren in the gut, forcing him to drop to his knees. Cradling his stomach, Kieren stared at Bill's shoes and coughed. He groaned in response to the accusation, pain threading through his skin like the purplish blue that would soon blossom there.

"You did this. You did this to my _boy_ " His voice cracked on the last syllable. Kieren watched as his shoes stepped from the stoop and stomped to his car. He waited for Bill to drive down the road before attempting to stand. Janet had crouched next to him and held a hand against his shoulder.

"Kieren I—"

"No, I'll...I'll be okay." He muttered as he placed a palm on the ground to stand. "I just need to see him." Kieren nodded in the general direction of Rick's room. "He sent me a letter, said he hadn't heard from me...makes no sense." He thought aloud as Janet invited him inside, glancing in the direction Bill had driven off to. "I've sent all the letters in the damn world." He muttered.

Janet sighed audibly and Kieren turned to her. "What is it?"

"Bill...he had me...give you the wrong address from Rick's combat training. He...didn't want you two talking." 

Kieren just stared at her, he couldn't think of anything to say to her. He couldn't yell at her, or really even be mad. It wasn't even really her fault, and for this he simply stared. 

She gestured towards the back room. "Rick's settling in here—if you want to go in the back." She was incredibly uneasy around Kieren. He finally glanced toward the floor and started walking the familiar route to Rick's room. Holding his stomach with his right arm, he pushed back his hair with his left hand and took a deep breath in front of Rick's door. He gently pushed it open to reveal Rick sitting on his bed.

Rick looked up stoically, apparently ready for another verbal beating. When he saw Kieren, his face changed completely. A smile cracked across his face and he stood up immediately, reaching forward to shake Kieren's hand. He looked much happier, though his eyes weren't as bright as they should have been. Sadness still dwelt within him.

"Ren." He said, warmly. Kieren let Rick's voice wash over him. He swallowed the knot in his throat. Rick looked at Kieren's arm held carefully over his stomach. "What happened?" he asked.

Kieren glanced down, and sighed. "Nothing, Rick. It's good to see you." He added, changing the subject. 

Rick nodded in agreement and invited Kieren to sit down with him. "I've been trying to contact you," Kieren sighed, "but it seems I was given the wrong information about where you were. I guess I assumed you just didn't want to talk to me."

Rick's eyebrows furrowed together and he sighed. "Listen Ren...my dad, he—" 

Kieren interrupted. "No. Rick you can't just defend him over and over like this. Aren't you fed up with the way he treats you? Your ma? She jumps about two feet back when he fuckin' moves. Aren't you concerned?" he demanded. Before Rick could answer, Kieren put a hand up. "Just, think about it, yeah?...I heard him shouting. What the fuck was that about?"

Rick took a deep breath. Then he took another and turned toward Kieren. "Ren...I know it's been a bit. After boot camp, I was stationed out in Georgia. In a training exercise, I was wounded pretty badly, and when they were patching me up, they had to give me blood to make up for what I lost." He looked into his lap. "A few months later, I went in to the doc's again, feeling sick. Well it, uh, turns out that I got HIV from that blood transfusion." He smiled humorlessly into his lap for what seemed like five minutes.

When he finally looked back up to Kieren's face, a tear had fallen to his chin, others threatening to spill. "I'm gonna die, Ren..." he whispered, as if speaking the words any more loudly would make it happen sooner.

Kieren raised a hand to his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. He had a million questions. _How? How much time did he have? Was there treatment?_ For now, he let the questions go unanswered and simply reached forward to wrap Rick in a hug. Rick, who was normally resistant to this type of closeness, yielded to Kieren's comfort in that moment. 

During the following months, Kieren didn't go down to 42nd street anymore. He introduced Amy to Rick, and while Rick thought she was odd and Amy thought he wasn't independent enough—they both laughed together, for Kieren's sake. Kieren and Rick went out for coffee, or got someone to buy them alcohol, or simply sat on roofs and talked about life. They smiled away all the pain in their lives. They ignored Rick's father and his disease, and for a while they simply lived, while Rick still could. Kieren got a job at a restaurant called The Legion, hoping he could actually save money for school. 

Amy finally convinced the executor of her grandmother's will that she should get the bungalow after all. Rick and Kieren were invited over for tea and coffee. Sometimes, Rick even came over with Kieren. Sometimes Kieren even brought other friends, like Phillip. Amy and Phillip seemed to hit it off, oddly enough.

Rick did get sick, eventually. Kieren couldn't push away death; he didn't have the power to keep it away foreverl. In these months, Kieren visited whenever he could. When he wasn't working over at The Legion, and when Bill Macy wasn't home, he was with Rick, watching him deteriorate.

In the end, Bill refused to take Rick to the hospital.

In the end, some random doctor wrote _pneumonia_ down as Rick's cause of death—once Kieren and Janet had discovered her son's body. It had taken Rick almost a year to succumb to his disease.

In the end, Kieren didn't cry at Rick's funeral. He had cried, cradling Rick's head as Janet called the paramedics. He had held Rick's lifeless form in his arms, forming his own dreadful _pieta_. When emergency services arrived, it was all they could do to peel Kieren away. He was shouting at them—he couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that Rick was really dead. After they took Rick's body away, Kieren held Rick's pillow and simply sobbed.

In the end, he went down to Central Park with a sharp knife and an intention to die. It was a nice spot, a place where he and Rick used to go as kids—they had a special tree with their initials carved in and everything. The mistake he had made was telling Amy where the tree was.

In the end, she and a companion found him bleeding out against the tree, and as she ran to get help from a security guard patrolling the park nearby, her companion pressed fabric against the cuts in his arms and tried to stop the bleeding.

Kieran was losing consciousness, but he was strangely sure that he recognized the face of Simon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I understand if you all want to jump ship now to spare yourselves the angst. Everything I write is sad. I think I'm incapable of writing happy things.
> 
> And yes, at this point, it has been almost two years since Simon and Kieren met. NYC is a big place.


	6. Hospital Sheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Attempt and the reintroduction of Simon into the story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long, April is death for the spring semester. I have like three papers I should be writing right now.
> 
> I have a beta now! many thanks to [the_heart_and_the_brain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_heart_and_the_brain)

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Kieren's eyes were closed as he squeezed them against the sounds of beeping somewhere to his right, as if the action would make the sound quieter.

Upon the realization that in reality this was not the case, which was a likely indicator that he was _in_ reality, he opened his eyes. Blinking several times, he was pleasantly surprised to find the room was dimly lit and not immediately offensive to his eyes. He glanced towards the beeping sound, confused. 

_Heart rate monitor?_ He glanced around. 

Suddenly he wasn't in a hospital bed, he was clutching Rick's pillow and crying tears that wouldn't stop, even after Janet had come in and cried with him until all her tears were gone. Somehow he had stumbled home, he wasn't sure how, through the tears. Sue had tried to ask him what was wrong, eventually giving up on her son's locked door and calling Janet. Sue told Steve, Jem overheard. Kieren's pain became public knowledge. That night, Steve had burst into the bedroom to find Kieren passed out next to an almost empty bottle of Kentucky bourbon. 

The next day, after everyone had left for work and school, Kieren decided to go down to Times Square. He spent a whole day and night in the district, trying to see old friends or to at least find some reason to hang on to his life. He looked for solace in encounters, meaningless purposeless sex with all kinds of people, trying to forget all the pain of losing Rick. The encounters in the dark that had brought him a sense of humanity and pleasure a year before felt empty now. Every day for a week he went down to 42nd, clawing at any bit of humanity he had left in him. He couldn't find it. Then, Rick was buried and Kieren resolved to die. 

He went to the tree and made an honest go of it. Relief flooded his body, even as blood left it—relief from the pain, relief from the grief, relief from the images of Rick dying slowly day by day.

Now he was here.

Kieren looked at his gauzed, white arms where he had carved into his skin. The red of his blood was no longer flowing, but the image was burned into his memory. He frowned and took a deep breath, feeling exhausted despite having undoubtedly been sleeping for a while. Kieren glanced around for something familiar, and was suddenly aware of someone else's breathing. 

He glanced to his left to see Amy sleeping in a chair, her head resting against the back. He opened his mouth to speak and found his throat was as dry as the cotton gauze protecting his self-inflicted wounds. Spotting water on a table, he endeavored to grab the glass, but dropped his tired arm after a few seconds of reaching. Kieren leaned back into the pillows and stared at the ceiling. _What's the point anyway?_ he asked it. 

_Why did they have to find me? Hmm? They couldn't just leave me to..._ He began interrogating the smooth whiteness of the hospital room. _What's so important about it anyway? One less fucking person on this hell...Damn you. Damn you._ He concluded, throwing the sentiment at nothing in particular.

_Damn you._ He thought as he fell into sleep again.

\--

He dreamt about kissing Rick. It was a night not long before the pneumonia that killed him settled in Rick's body; he and Kieren had gone to the tree and talked about things they had never said.

Rick let it all out that say—he thought his dad was wrong on basically all accounts in his views of people and life. He chuckled, the way that always made Kieren smile, but the laugh devolved into a cough that shook his whole body. "Sorry Ren." He whispered an apology that carried more guilt than a cough warranted. 

"For what?" Kieren asked. He discarded his studded leather jacket. Rick stared at it as he spoke.

"Everything. I should have stood up for you. I should have stood up for me." Rick said. "What kind of man can shoot a rifle at a living target, push his body to its limits and do the things I set out to do, to prove by going in the army, but can't tell his dad to fuck off. I couldn't tell my dad that he should just shut his fuckin' mouth. I was so scared, Ren and I didn't even know I was. Dad, he taught me to shoot and fight and play football, I thought it was okay, being that kind of man, but he told me I couldn't be anyone but a man like him. _No one_ else. He asked me why I was friends with you, said you would turn me into something I'm not and I was just so terrified—I couldn't tell him...I couldn't tell him, Ren." His voice cracked, threatening tears and he stopped. Rick pressed a palm to his forehead and took a breath.

"Tell him what, Rick?" Kieren asked, voice full of concern and care, reaching a hand out to touch Rick's shoulder. He was a little confused by all Rick was saying. It sounded like some sort of confession, but it was a jumble. Rick leaned into Kieren's palm.

Rick wouldn't look at Kieren. "When I came home and told him about the...he blamed you. Said you had turned me into something I wasn't." He chuckled sadly, the sound completely devoid of cheerfulness. "The funny thing is…I didn't even get it from another guy. I got it from fucking surgery. _Surgery_." His voice wavered.

_Something he isn't? Is he trying to say that he's...?_ Kieren thought.

"And it's just so fucking funny to me that I got sick from surgery, when I could have gotten it from some—" He took a deep breath and looked at Kieren. "I was too scared to tell my dad why I hung around you." Rick looked back at the grass between his shoes. "I loved you, Kieren. I loved you and I didn't know it and you were just this bright...thing...in the world and it scared me. I ran away because I was scared to tell my Dad I loved you. I'm sorry because I never stood up for you. I never stood up for me and it was shit." 

The air hung heavy between them. When Rick dared to look at his best friend, Kieren's lips crashed into his own, the force pushing him back into their tree. Rick felt knees straddling his thighs and before he even knew it, his arms were wrapped around a slender torso, while Kieren's hands pressed against the sides of his head. His large hands ran up Kieren's back, gripping slight shoulders and pulling them closer. In the heat and quickness of the movement, the scramble to kiss harder, be nearer, Kieren's teeth scraped against Rick's. Words unsaid for years fueled the explosive combustion between them now. 

In this moment, Kieren woke, seeking inflamed flesh and finding only cool hospital sheets in his grasp. It was the dead of night. He felt his loss coldly, deeply, a frigid ice curling his body around itself.

He cried.

\--

A couple days later, it was well known Kieren was awake and responsive, or as responsive as he was going to be. Sue and Steve were in and out at several intervals throughout the day, Jem came with them sometimes. Amy had been there whenever the hospital staff would let her. She was a fixture at Kieren's bedside, reading his "get well" messages in funny voices, telling stories of her grandmother, and otherwise trying to make her best friend smile. She even succeeded a few times.

Once Kieren's body had gained enough normal function to maintain energy levels, the doctors invited him to move around more. After one jaunt through the halls to find his feet, he returned to his room to find a man in an oversized sweater perched on his bed, and no Amy to be found. _The man from the theater. Simon._

"You’re, uh, sitting on my bed." Kieren said, standing dejectedly in a hospital gown, hand clutching the IV stand to his left.

"This you?" Simon asked. He showed no signs of remembering his and Kieren's sexual experience.

Kieren nodded. "You may not have realized. It's not as if I look like a hospital patient." He said quietly, replacing Simon once he had moved to the visitor chair. Bitterness had been his primary emotion since he ran out of tears to cry.

Simon bit his cheek, hiding a smile. He distracted himself by picking up a card and reading it. "'I hate when the people I care about are not well. So, for your sake and mine, hope you start to feel swell.'" He looked up with a raised eyebrow, trying to find something nice to say. "It rhymes."

"I didn't choose it." Kieren said, feeling particularly prickly. As if he had control over what people wrote in get well messages. 

"What would you have chosen?" Simon asked. "You know, assuming you were getting a card for someone like you?" 

Kieren glanced at the small pile of cards and back at Simon. "Uh...sorry you tried to kill yourself? Maybe a better poem than that..."

"I balanced all, brought all to mind/ The years to come seemed waste of breath/ A waste of breath the years behind/ In balance with this life, this death." Simon recited carefully, poking his fingers with the corners of the cardstock in his hand.

Kieren simply looked at Simon. The words were oddly comforting, despite the themes of death. While others were tiptoeing around the idea that Kieren has slit his own wrists—pointedly not looking at his bandaged arms, only smiling and taking about light things, not mentioning why he was in the hospital at all—here was this man who refused to treat Kieren like broken glass. Kieren had made it clear he was okay talking about what happened, but Sue had just pretended not to hear him and kept talking about the gardenias. Simon had recognized Kieren's need to cope with gallows humor and discussions around what happened. "Would probably be pretty inappropriate for a get well card. Not very inspiring if you're interested in making sure they don't try to kill themselves again." He murmured before Amy burst back through the door.

"Oh great! You guys have met!" She exclaimed, holding a cup of coffee in her hand. She handed it to Simon.

He glanced up from the cup. "Not formally. Thank you for the coffee."

"Kieren Walker, this is Simon Monroe. Simon, Kieren." She smiled and continued. "Simon's been working on starting up an organization with some friends of his that want to fight the government for not treating people with AIDS like people." She beamed up at Simon.

"Oh, right." Kieren hadn't seen Simon in almost two years. He wondered if this was why. _Did Simon have...?_

"So how did you two...?" Kieren asked. 

"Down on forty second where we used to hang out." She said. "Simon has been staying in my nan's bungalow with me for about a month now." She wrapped her arm around his. Kieren tried to reconcile the bits of evidence that made it seem like Amy and Simon were together with the fact that nearly two years ago Simon had sucked him off in a porn theater. Kieren hadn't been to Amy's bungalow in a long time, not since Rick had started deteriorating; it made sense why he didn't know Amy and Simon were friends. _But together?_

"Where you two used to hang out?" Simon asked.

"Yeah. We used to go to the Cedar and the Adonis together all the time." Amy said brightly.

Simon's eyes widened a bit and he stared at a point behind Kieren as if seeing a scene play out in his mind. 

"We should probably be off." Amy mentioned. Simon didn't answer. She bumped him with her elbow.

Amy and Kieren were both looking at Simon, but when he refocused his eyes, he stared straight into Kieren's, raised eyebrows wrinkling his forehead. He glanced away, the corner of his lip upturned slightly as if he was trying to suppress a smile.

He glanced at Amy and asked, "Can I talk to him alone for a second?"

"Uh...yeah. Sure." She smiled. "Visiting hours are pretty much done though."

"I'll meet you out there in a minute." He said.

"Okay." She wiggled her fingers at Kieren. "Goodbye handsome. Call the bungalow if you need anything." She strolled out the door.

After she left, the duo stood there for a beat in silence. Kieren slid his fingers over the smooth metal of his attached IV stand. "Was it you who...who helped Amy get me here?" he asked.

Just as Simon was about to speak, a doctor walked in, holding a chart.

She glanced between them and then looked at Simon pointedly. "I need to speak to the patient privately please."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't guessed yet, PDS is HIV/AIDS in this story. There is fluff yet to come but this is going to be mostly angsty and h/c, if I know my own storytelling style. If you have any questions about future events, shoot me a message at [my tumblr](http://kenzlock.tumblr.com)


	7. Bad News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't abandoned you! Finals are over now though and I just lost my job so i have time now...

Kieren stared at his hands, sitting on the hospital bed. Thankfully his room was devoid of other people for the night. Simon had left when asked, with the promise of returning the next day to talk about... _things_. Kieren wasn't sure if he was all that interested in the conversation.

After ushering Simon out, the young doctor had shut the door. He sat down on the bed and she set her chart aside, rubbing her palms on her coat. She cleared her throat three times, Kieren counted. _Bad news_.

"So...Kieren. I'm Doctor Pearson. Because of...your lifestyle choices, we tested your blood for HIV and..um..you tested...positive." She kept glancing between Kieren and the floor, trying to hold his gaze, but ultimately running from it. _New, as well._ his brain registered before processing what she was saying.

"You seem um—" she began again.

"What are you telling me?" Kieren asked, still not quite understanding.

"You...well, Kieren. You have HIV." Her slightly quivering voice shoved into the space between them, this time looking him in the face.

Kieren gripped the sheets next to him, seeking grounding. "How? I mean I'm fine. I'm fine aren't I?" he asked.

"I'm not...I'm not ready for this" she said, sounding nauseous and turning for the door. "I'll bring someone..." she reached for the handle.

"Doctor Pearson?" he asked as she was about to turn the handle. "Please just stay...explain..." His voice was soft, but curiously hard, forcefully monotone. He was trying not to be emotional about the news.

She sighed shakily and nodded once, a tight, joyless smile pressed between her lips. "The girl who brought you in wrote down what she knew about you. In that she...uh...alluded to the idea...that you might have male partners. We tested you and...positive." Pearson looked to his chart then back to him. "You can have HIV and not know about it for a while...did you feel like you were really sick a while back?"

"Like the flu?" he asked, trying to remain detached from the news.

"Like the worst flu you've ever had." She affirmed.

"Yeah," he said, squeezing the muscles at the back of his neck. "Yeah. About a year ago I thought I was gonna die—" he stopped and grimaced. "Um, yeah...the worst flu I ever had. Lasted a bit but my mom and dad don't have much money to go to the doctor's." He explained.  
"Well that was probably your body reacting to the virus." Pearson nodded and braced for more questions.

"So why did it clear up? I mean, well...my friend just died from pneumonia. He had it." Kieren's wall of shoddily constructed hardness began to collapse as notes of Rick fell into his thoughts.

Pearson's brow furrowed, highlighting her empathetic eyes. "Well, you see, Kieren...the virus can remain in your body for a very long time before it's detected. That flu you felt a year ago wasn't really the flu, it was your body trying to fight the virus."

"And it won." An air of finality settled around his crumpled shoulders.

"I suppose that's true. It's better that you know. The FDA is probably going to release a drug soon, I know there's one in approval." She said hopefully.

Kieren smiled sadly at her, not really finding hope. "Thanks."

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "Okay, well if you need anything just let one of the nurse's know and they can come find me...I'll be here all night." She added and left, closing the door as she went.

Kieren now leaned back on the bed and covered his eyes with an arm slung loosely over his face. It was dim in the room, but he wanted darkness—absolute, complete, unending darkness. He heard his door creak open and his eyes shot open as he sat up.

Simon was shutting the door behind him, a finger pressed to his lips signaling to Kieren to be quiet. Once the door was shut, he walked toward the bed. "You'd be horrified how easy it is to sneak in here."

"It's a hospital not a state penitentiary." Kieren whispered. He curled up on the bed hugging his knees, leaving space for Simon to sit. "Look I don't really want to talk right now." He said, contrary to his actions.

"I figured, but..." Simon sat on the hospital bed, feet dangling off the edge and looking at Kieren. "I thought you might not want to be alone."

"Why would you think that?" Kieren asked, attempting to hide genuine curiosity behind indignant snark.

"Well look at you, Kieren Walker. You don't look sick but the doctor looked petrified. You hang down at 42nd. I guessed." Simon shrugged. His words were blunt, but gentle.

When Kieren didn't respond, Simon simply looked him up and down. Kieren pulled his arms between his chest and his legs to hide the bandages on his wrists. The bandages were a terrible reminder, and they seemed to make everyone who came in to see him uncomfortable in the silence of the hospital room. Simon carefully touched Kieren's knee as if to say, "no wait, you don't have to."

He pulled up the sleeves on his own large sweater to show the track marks that he hid beneath. "Hey it’s alright, we’ve all got our scars." He offered a bit of a smile, not very cheerful, but compassionate.

Kieren stared at the marks on his arm rather than Simon's face. "What did you take?" he asked, still quiet.

"The A to Z of the periodic table." He shrugged, pulling the sleeves of his heavy sweater back down.

"Why so much?" Kieren asked, no longer hiding his curiosity.

"At the time I thought ‘why the hell not?’" His smile was now rueful. "When I last saw you...what was it...two years ago? I was probably strung out on something. That's the way I always used to be."

Kieren remained quiet, wondering if he would continue.

"Ever been so depressed it felt as if every nerve ending in your body was exposed, red and raw?" Simon asked, earnestly. He took Kieren's nod as an invitation to continue, "If I took enough chemicals it would dampen down those feelings a bit."

"Why were you so depressed?"

Simon waited a beat, forming his thoughts before speaking. "Way I was wired, I suppose. Since the day I could think I’d had this idea in my mind, this piercing notion that life was completely meaningless. Me and everyone else were just treading water until our bodies gave out and we sank back into the darkness. When you feel like that twenty four seven you might as well get fucked up beyond belief, cuz you don’t believe in anything in the first place."

They sat in silence for another minute longer before Simon continued. "That's how I got it, you know. Well, either that or the random fucking in the dark of alleyways and movie theaters, or both. Who could really tell? But I got it too."

"Do you still feel that way?" Kieren asked. "Depressed, I mean?"

"No. Not anymore, not really anyway. Sometimes it's hard. Not sure I'm there yet on the 'life has meaning' front, and drug addiction is no easy midday stroll." He chuckled humorlessly. "Amy helps." He said, an afterthought.

Kieren stared past Simon at the wall. "It's ironic really. I slash my wrists, live, and find out I'm going to die. It's a bit much for one day, don't you think?"

"Not more than you can take, I imagine."

"Christ...I just lost my best friend. I've contracted a fatal disease. How am I going to tell my family?" he squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them with the heels of his palms.

"That I can't help you with." Simon said quietly, though he wasn't actually intending to say that out loud.

Kieren let it go. "Why come back just to comfort me? You don't really know me" he asked.

"You're one of us. Sometimes there's no one to lean on—I found that out the hard way about 18 months ago." He paused, remembering. "I didn't want you to feel alone." He said, replacing his hand on Kieren's knee, lightly squeezing, then letting go.

He pushed himself off the hospital bed and stood up. "You should get some sleep. If you're up for it, Amy and I are throwing this sort of get together...thing...at this abandoned warehouse a friend of mine owns. It's on..." he paused to figure out what day it was. "Saturday, so in four days." He shrugged. "You're welcome; just call the bungalow for the address."

Kieren's eyes followed him to the door. "Goodbye Simon."

He turned. "Goodbye Kieren. I know it's hard...but try to get some sleep."

"Alright." He said as the door to his room shut.

_I'm already dead...what's the worst that could happen._


End file.
